Not Really a Soldier
by Centris124
Summary: Many years ago, he said he hoped she wouldn't be on the battlefield when the Qunari attacked Fereldan. But she was, of course.


Elissa has the most wonderful set of armor. It's chased with silver and polished bright as a mirror and has lots of sharp intimidating bits stuck all over. The gauntlets make thrilling clashing sounds during grand events and passionate speeches when she makes dramatic gestures. Ally had it made just for her, and it's fit for a Queen.

But she's not a Queen today, or at least she doesn't want to be, so she wears the rough studded armor that Leiliana gave her instead. It's light and strong and hugs her curves just right for maximum mobility. Ally loves this, but hates that Leiliana probably loves it too, and just how did she know Elissa's measurements so_ precisely _anyway…?

Elissa likes scouting, and she's one of the best at it, and it's her _duty _as a Warden so Ally reluctantly allows her to go sometimes because if he didn't she'd just go anyway and they'd have to fight about it. And it all seemed routine today at first, but things went pear-shaped in a hurry and now she's stuck in a battle pit with a Qunari arrow through her shoulder. Pushing back against the muddy pit wall, she pulls tentatively at the arrow shaft and the world goes black for a moment. As she claws her way back to full consciousness, she thinks wryly that at least she wasn't wearing the good armor. Ally would kill her for denting it.

"Maker, he's gonna kill me anyway," she murmurs aloud wryly. "I'm gonna die out here and then he's gonna kill me."

This thought spurs her to make another attempt at the arrow, and as she grits her teeth and reaches for the shaft the sounds of combat grow closer. A small avalanche of pebbles and dirt clods falls into the pit, followed rapidly by the hulk of a Qunari warrior. Biting back a yelp of pain, she rolls into a fighting crouch and fumbles for a blade. The invading warrior is doing the same thing, and on a good day she might be able to beat him to it but her shoulder hurts so badly and she can't get at the dagger and now she's staring right down the blade of…

Asala?

"Sten," she breathes as the Qunari pushes back the visor of his helm and fixes her with an icy lavender stare. He lowers the sword point slowly as she slumps back against the wall, the fight gone out of her.

"Warden."

Elissa stares, silent, waiting for her pulse to slow. He speaks again, with great deliberation.

"I thought you said you were not a soldier."

She allows a small smile, pleased he remembers that conversation. "I'm a scout," she corrects, a bit lamely.

Sten, naturally, is unimpressed. "And a Queen."

She nods, because it's true.

"A foolish Queen." Sten, having apparently decided not to kill her at this time, tucks in next to her and gestures to the arrow shaft sticking out of her armor. "And a foolish scout."

And that's true too. "Tell me about it," she murmurs as he leans over to inspect the wound, then rummages in his pack. "Could you…please…ah…"

But he's already on it. With surprising gentleness he pulls her forward and snaps the fletching off the arrow at her back, then offers the jagged piece of wood to her. "Bite down," he commands, and she does. Pain explodes behind her eyelids as he yanks the shaft out. She lets out a stream of muffled curses, but Sten is unmoved. They're been through this song and dance many times before. Unruffled, he tucks a few cleanish rags around the wound. "Press."

As she staunches the blood, he pulls out a poultice and hands it over. Gratefully she accepts, tucking it under the bloody rags and hissing as the herbs take effect. Weary beyond measure, she scoots sideways and flops back against his massive arm with a sigh. Back in camp, this used to annoy him. Based on his grumbling it seems that it still does, but now as then he makes no move to dislodge her.

After a moment of what she hopes is companionable silence she ventures, "I have a question."

She feels his voice rumbling through her back as much as she hears it. "Ask."

"Did you get the cookies? I wasn't sure they'd make it to you, I didn't really know where you were exactly and I thought the courier was reliable but…"

"They were a fine gift," he interrupts. If Sten ever had a smile in his voice, it's there now. Another stretch of quiet as Elissa tries to breathe around the pain. Then,

"How _are_ you, Sten?" She tries to nestle back further against his shoulder, but his armor makes it difficult. "I haven't spoken to you since…well, since the Archdemon. All those years ago."

"I am well." Does he actually hesitate? "I…have a scion."

Scion. Elissa wracks her brain for the translation, and after a faltering moment it comes to her. She tilts her head back to look at him and grins hugely. "You have a child! Sten, you sly dog! How wonderful!"

He suddenly looks as exasperated as she's ever seen him, which is saying something, but maybe a bit proud as well. "She is a girl child. She wishes to be a warrior. It…is not suitable."

The mental picture is priceless. She slaps him joyfully on the knee. "If anyone can work that one out, Sten, it's you."

Sten nods, thoughtful, and asks, "You?"

"Kids? No! No... I mean, not for lack of trying and all-"

"Don't," says Sten darkly.

"-but the Taint, and such, and no. Not yet." The pain in her shoulder ebbs enough for her to wrap her arms around herself and pick anxiously at a sleeve edge. "It…it doesn't have to be a straight line, you know. The succession. It's hopped around to nephews and by-blows and such before, as you well know, so it's not like anything is different." It is different, and she bloody well knows it, but finds that it doesn't help matters to think about it.

She feels Sten nod again, once, as though that all made sense. "The throne should go to the strongest warrior." Elissa thinks to herself how very Sten-like this response is, and wishes it really were that simple. The Qunari follows up with, "And how is the King of Ferelden?"

"Oh, fine. Ally's fine, and he'd send his love, if he knew you were here." It's entirely diplomatic and makes absolutely no sense - why would the King send his love to the enemy? - but at the same time she knows it's true.

"I send my esteem." In the silence that follows, Sten cocks his head, listening towards the surface. "The fighting has moved off."

Elissa realizes he's been waiting for her to regain her strength, and regretfully she pulls herself to her feet, wincing. A strong hand under her elbow assists her. Sten confirms that the conflict has indeed moved to the east, boosts her out of the pit despite her protests, and hauls himself up after her. Once again he helps her stand and they face each other squarely.

"Sten, I've missed you." She holds a hand out and, as he takes it in both of his, she thumps his gauntlet affectionately.

"And I, you," He rumbles, before poking the padding over her wound gently. "This will require Healing."

"When I get back," she promises, "Which I will, thanks to you."

The tiniest smile curves his lips, the smallest particle of mirth shines in his eyes. "I will merely have to kill you another time, Kadan."

She tiptoes up and plants a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Not if I kill you first." As she turns to slip back across her party's line, he salutes her solemnly, backlit by the fires of the Qunari camp. She doesn't look back until she's safe. But by then, he is gone.


End file.
